


The Beginning of Something Really Excellent

by awesomocity



Series: Someone Borrowed, Someone Blue [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Multi, Shenanigans, aged-up, salamancers and weird time shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-30
Updated: 2011-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-23 06:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awesomocity/pseuds/awesomocity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You would say you don’t believe in Fate, but that would be a lie, because you met her once in the Trimerian System and possibly stole one of her shot glasses. You don’t really remember. Shenanigans were involved.</p><p>That being said, Jade Harley is a force you shouldn’t have underestimated, and as John Egbert will readily tell you, he is the undisputed pranking master. It doesn’t help that your TARDIS and a small army of salamanders seem to be in on the joke too.</p><p>The last of the Time Lords just doesn’t stand a chance.</p><p>(unsolicited Doctor Who/Homestuck crossover because f#ck the Judoon)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginning of Something Really Excellent

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely due to Silence in the Library, where Ten and Donna are trapped in the Library fleeing the Vashta Nerada and they hit a door they can’t get through because the sonic screwdriver doesn’t do wood. I jokingly suggested to my friend that a sonic sledgehammer would probably work better; at least that way even when the sonic wasn’t working you could bash your way through things—
> 
> —and then whoops I was thinking about Homestuck. Enjoy.

_“One day you’re going to make me very happy,” she says, hands clasped behind her beneath that long fall of dark hair. She looks back at you over one shoulder, eyes mischievous and almost surreally green behind her glasses, and you can’t help but come to the defense of your pride, as ridiculous as it seems at that moment._

_“What, I don’t make you happy now? The lady’s got some high expectations.”_

_She laughs, and those teeth, geez those teeth. They don’t matter when they’re in her smile, though, and she_ is _smiling but it is tight and vaguely nostalgic._

 _“I’m going to see you again, someday, and you’re going to make me_ very _happy for just a little bit, but I need_ you _to stay happy until then. For me, okay?”_

_“Where are you going?” you ask, alarmed, but she just steps out of the door and almost disappears into the snow, her skin so pale against it._

_“I have stuff to do, fuckass!” she yells over the wind, still smiling. Bec barks and tears after her, nearly knocking you over in his haste to return to the human girl’s side. “Like I said, we’ll meet again!”_

_“The fuck!” you yell back, shades shielding your eyes from the glare off the powder, but not by much. “You can’t just run off like this! I promised I would get you back safe, Harley!”_

_“There’ll be time for that later,” she calls, already moving away and starting to fade into the blizzard. “Have I ever lied to you, Dave Strider?”_

_She snaps her fingers, the door slams in your face, and you’re thrown to the ground as you start moving. The TARDIS is taking you away, and you have no clue when she learned to do that._

_Jade Harley is gone, her coordinates are lost, and you are alone. Again._

***

You are the Knight, and you have been alone for far too long.

Or, at least, you think it's been a long time. It's hard to tell when you're contemplating where to run to next out of the whole of time and space. Wibbly-wobbly time-whimey, and all of that.

Wait, did you say run? You're not running. Time Lords don't run; they just sort of... wander. Or you do, but that may just be because in an extremely ill-judged fit of irony, you chose retro over functional when stealing yourself a TARDIS. Half the time you think it’s either completely busted or so old it’s developed an ironic streak all its own, because wherever it lands you usually end up having to save the day, and you’re not a hero by anyone’s definition. Not even that of these weird three foot salamander things which are apparently the reason you were pulled away from chill orbit around the fourth pleasure planet of Magneron’s Seven Wonder Worlds and onto Earth, circa 2016. You can’t put a name to the place, but you’re on a street lined with shops up several floors, and you can smell the ocean just a little bit over the powerful alien scent the salamanders are carrying.

You take a brief moment to savor the irony of getting pulled away from a planet of babes in favor of bipedal newts, pat the side of your TARDIS and assure it that “it’s okay to be jealous, babe, I completely understand”, then walk around in the hopes of figuring out where they all came from. This isn’t a flux point in time, so it’s not like you can ironically negotiate on behalf of the dopey looking creatures for equal rights and a second home among the humans. They’re here by mistake, and they need to get gone before someone calls the Army and their slimy asses get nuked. You can already hear someone screaming in the distance. The area is entirely clear save you and the salamanders, some of which have acquired pretty dashing hats either fashioned from trash or lost by humans fleeing the oncoming amphibian apocalypse.

You’re already starting to wade through them in search of a leader, which you’re not quite sure they’ll have because you’re not quite sure they’re sentient, when you see him.

 _He_ is a pretty awkward looking guy in khaki cargo shorts, kneeling before one of the salamanders. He has a hat on his head too, a sort of lopsided crown, and he’s got a newspaper in his lap from which he looks to be folding an origami samurai helmet. He’s all grin and overbite when it’s finished, and he places it on the head of his little yellow buddy with an air of regality that’s actually pretty damn hilarious, if not ironic. He glances over as you start to approach, creating a stir among the waves of over-excited salamanders, and you’re struck dumb by how blue his eyes are behind a pair of dorky square-rimmed glasses.

Yeah, you’ve definitely been alone too long if both your hearts are beating faster off a reject from the Geek Squad.

He sits back on his heels and waves as you finish making your way over, adjusting your sweet red suit with an amount of chill that should rightly freeze his nose right off his face. His expression doesn’t change, but he gestures to the newspaper as you approach and says, “If you want a hat too, there’s plenty left.”

“No thanks,” you say, eyeing the salamander wearing one as it does something you guess is a celebratory dance. “These guys with you?”

“Nope,” the man says, beginning work on another hat for a different salamander, “and that one’s a girl, for the record. Why do you ask?”

You quirk an eyebrow above your shades. “Other than the fact that you’re communing with them like they’re your long lost children returned after a massive explosion and a tearful slow-mo run sequence set to bad country music? No reason.”

His grin widens, putting three large teeth right on display in a way that should just be awkward, but you find sort of endearing. Way too many lonely nights spent in the TARDIS ironically watching Dawson’s Creek and having feelings jams with the sonic screwdriver, you guess. He places the finished hat on the second salamander’s head with considerably less fanfare than the first, then offers you a hand.

“John Egbert,” he says, “biology major and aspiring milliner. You?”

“The Knight,” you reply, ignoring the handshake and crouching down to reach eye level with the funny little creatures. You see John cock his head slightly out of the corner of your eye, obviously confused.

“The Knight of what?” he asks, jokingly. You pick up the nearest salamander and are rewarded with a sticky bubble being blown in your face.

“Time, if you’ve gotta know,” you grumble back, wiping newt spit off your nose as he laughs. “You do realize it’s against Article Fifty-six of the Shadow Proclamation to create a species that disturbs the natural order of a Level Five Planet’s ecosystem and established civilization, right?”

He just looks at you, and you roll your eyes even though you know he can’t see them, licking your lips in the process. The spit the bubble left on them tastes like fluorescent mushrooms and petrochemicals.

“Should’ve known,” you mutter. “Sequence two of the Skaia system. These guys are from Lowas, and definitely not with you.”

“I’m gonna pretend that made sense and just go with it,” John says amicably, giving the remaining newspaper to the helmeted salamander to play with. “Wherever they’re from, they need to get home. There isn’t any fresh water around here, and they’ll all dry out before too long.”

You push your fringe out of your face and glance down the street, trying to get an idea of where the group ends. He follows your gaze, then stands to further his vision. He’s wearing a zip-up vest, a shirt with an overly cheerful version of that ghoul from _Ghostbusters_ on it, and upon closer inspection, socks with sandals. You didn’t think anyone actually did that.

“They aren’t on any other street, as far as I’ve seen,” he says, rubbing the little bit of stubble on his chin as he thinks. “And I have no idea where they could’ve come from. Or how the others got hats on their heads with no arms or thumbs.”

“Good to know you’re thinking about the big picture here, Egbert,” you say, setting the salamander down as it begins to flail its legs and blow more bubbles in your general direction. “Where are we?”

He seems taken aback at your question, but he glances over your plush suit and pointy anime shades and seems to reconsider the relative weirdness of it. “Downtown Seattle, near Pike Place. Washington state?”

“That explains your feet, but not the random newts,” you say, thinking hard, and he actually has the gall to look offended.

“Hey! Socks and sandals are perfectly practical!” he asserts, frown almost comically deep. “If it warms up later I can take the socks off. Besides which, they’re not newts.”

You give him a blank look, which in Egbertian is apparently permission to keep talking. “It’s like squares and rectangles, dude. All newts are salamanders, but not all salamanders are newts. Same family, but different subfamily.”

“Pretty much blown away by the relevance here,” you shoot back, standing as well and getting kind of pissed that he actually has about two inches on you in terms of height. “My point was, no space-time rifts in the coffee capital of the universe. Guess I’ll figure out how the hell they got here later. For now, I’ve gotta get them into my TARDIS and back to the glowstick rave planet they came from.”

“Your what?” John asks, and you jerk a thumb back in the direction you came. His eyebrows rise until they threaten to return to the wilds of his ruffled hair, freed from facial captivity at last, and he lets out a confused laugh you guess is his reaction to everything that doesn’t quite add up. “There’s no way they’re all gonna fit in a phone box, bro. Not even a weird blue one like yours."

He’s looking at you incredulously, but there’s still a little something in his eyes that says maybe he wants to believe, so you let a little smirk tilt the corners of your lips and gesture for him to follow you in the most off-hand way possible. “You’ll see.”

And he does see, and his grin comes back full force. Instead of making some inane remark about how it’s “bigger on the inside” when you let him in, he just whistles and says, “Wicked.”

You push him back out the door of the TARDIS, leaving it open behind you to hopefully make the giant newt-herding you’re about to do just that much smoother, and you tell him as much just to watch his jaw work when you call them “newts” again.

“Why’s it look like that, though?” he asks as you both work your way towards the end of the salamander swarm, John having a better time of it than you because they apparently _like him_. “For a spaceship, you’d think it’d be more… _more?”_

“Excuse me, are you judging my TARDIS?” you quip, topping it off with an offended snap and shoulder movement that has him busting up laughing. “No, really, first spaceship you ever see and not only do you not bat an eye, you start critiquing? Egbert, I don’t feel secure in this relationship.”

“I’m sorry, honey,” he replies, not missing a beat. “I’ll try harder next time. We can make this work.”

And then you’re smiling too, an honest smile for the first time in _ever,_ and you have to cover it by pushing to start the group of amphibians moving and actually answering his question. You feel like such a tool. Such a stupid, happy tool.

“I was cruising around the 1960s, hoping to get in on some of that free love hippie action, but I ended up in the industrial section of London, not San Fran. My Chameleon Circuit flipped a shit, probably because it _knew_ we weren’t getting weed _or_ bitches there, and the TARDIS has been stuck looking like this ever since.”

“I think I actually got most of that!” John says, helping file the last of the now frantically bubbling creatures in through the door before you shut it behind him. He looks at you questioningly as you shoo salamanders away from the TARDIS’s engine and start to pull levers, disbelief and excitement warring on his face.

“What, am I going too?”

You look over to him with your hand on the last switch, hesitating.

“You want to?”

It’s probably good that you’re wearing shades, if he’s going to light up like that every time someone invites him aboard a spaceship to another world. Fucking traffic hazard. Your phone’s gonna explode any second now with bitching from the Shadow Proclamation about how you need to kick his puppy or shove a bag over his face before they dispatch a fleet of Judoon on your ass.

“Oh _hell_ yes,” he says, and practically runs up the short flight of stairs to stand next to you. You throw that switch with way more flourish than usual, and delight in the way he both laughs and shouts as you’re thrown back against the railing by the force of the TARDIS moving, the engine whooshing and view screens flickering with each world and moment you pass. The salamanders are freaking out, some of them have fallen over and are rolling around, kicking their feet ineffectually, but John’s whooping and swaying with the ship’s movements as if it’s the best fucking thing that’s happened to him since Birkenstocks.

Then, with another jolt that causes both of you to lose your grips and go flying in amongst the salamanders, the TARDIS lands. John rushes to open the door without even stopping to consider whether there’s air to breathe or gravity. He just yanks it open and whoops again when a heavy gray sky sparkling with lights and phosphorescent trees opens up beyond it, land veined with oil rivers and resplendent in shades of blue.

“It’s gorgeous,” he breathes, and then as if that were some kind of bizarre permissions, the salamanders stream out from around him to frolic on their home world. He lets himself be pushed out with the wave, far too trusting, but if the salamanders could breathe on Earth he can breathe here. You let him go, and enjoy the way he marvels at everything around him, alternating between trying to classify the different flora and just spinning around with his arms flung out like a little kid, the salamanders trying to imitate him and falling over. It reminds you of the first time you brought a human with you wandering, and now that you think of it they do look eerily similar, except her eyes were green to his blue, and her glasses—

Well, suffice to say you apparently have a type. You leave the rest of your memories to lie, walking out to prod John with one killer dress shoe after he falls over on the aqua soil and closes his eyes like he’s about to fall asleep.

“There’s still one left in the TARDIS,” you point out, gesturing with your head to the salamander with the samurai helmet. John rolls over on his stomach and props his head on his hands to stare at it, but it still huddles just in the doorway, stubbornly refusing to leave. John looks up at you with a sly smile on his face.

“Could I take her back to Earth?” he asks.

“Forgotten Article Fifty-six already?”

“But I didn’t create her!”

“The word used was actually ‘introduce’,” you admit, shrugging nonchalantly. “I was adlibbing.”

“You’re a douche!” he protests, earning himself another nudge, a little harder this time.

“I can’t keep her in the TARDIS,” you point out. “I’m bad with pets, always forget to feed them or accidentally lose them in the Jurassic period— you know, shit happens.”

John looks horrified at that point, but also on the verge of having his heart broken over a sentimental salamander. You roll your eyes dramatically so that the motion moves your whole head, and then affect a put-upon sigh.

“I guess there’s always one other option…”

“What?”

You step back up into the doorway of the TARDIS next to the salamander, and offer a hand.

“Come with me?”

“ _What?_ ” John repeats, thunderstruck. You shove your hand back into your pocket and lean casually on the frame as if the whole thing’s no big deal.

“You could come with me. Tend to your precious alien newt, see exotic and exciting universal locales, find better footwear on another world— the possibilities are endless.”

“You’d let me?” he asks, still not seeming to process everything.

“What do you need, Egbert, an engraved invitation?” you ask. “Pretty sure there’s something in here that can do that, but it’ll take a bit and I really want to get the fuck out of dodge before the salamancers open up another wormhole in pursuit of caffeine.”

This time John gets the memo, and he jumps up to rush back inside as if you were actually going to slam the door in his face and leave him to try to distill water out of gas rivers and cohabitate with the planet’s slimy occupants.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” you ask, closing and locking the TARDIS after him. He turns around to answer midstride, almost falls over, and comes to a full stop against the railing before he tries again.

“ _Yes!_ ” he yells, and it must be goddamn Christmas up in the TARDIS because shit you feel like Santa. Alien, blond, vastly more attractive Santa. You move to the controls and start punching buttons, feeling more into the perfunctory kicks and hammersmashing driving the TARDIS requires with an audience who’s eating it up with equal measures amusement and worry for his life. You needed this, you realize, you really did. There’s only so much being cool and talking to the sonic screwdriver you can stand before you start to get a little off your game. But you’re back now, you’re _so_ back.

“This is awesome,” John enthuses, coming up the stairs with his eyes fixed on the body of the moving engine. “My sister went travelling too, you know. She’s been gone for ages, out having fun while I’m at home! But this is definitely going to be bigger than Bengal and Siberia or wherever she went.”

And then you’re really not feeling the kicking and hammering so much. You stop dead, and look at him closer. “You have a sister?”

His smile falls and he looks at you too, but not as intensely. He’s confused, considering you were all over the place just a second ago, and a little apprehensive, as if thinking he’d just accidentally found the one thing _not_ to say to a time-traveller under _any_ circumstances, and he’s trying to work out why it was so bad.

“Yeah,” he says, cautiously. “Her name is Jade. Man, she is going to be so jealous.”

It feels like the bottom has dropped out of your stomach, and you brace your hands shoulder’s width apart on the console to try to focus. It warms at your touch, and the glow of the TARDIS intensifies for barely a second, as if laughing at your shock.

“You conniving bitch,” you mutter, thumping it with a knuckle. John’s still looking at you, but you slap on your best poker face and turn around, quick to change the subject.

“Yeah. Totally. No big deal. Where to?” you ask, starting to pull knobs. “Violet fields of Haeyin-Vex? Third sun of the Leahve Sing system? Twelfth Perigee’s Eve on Alternia? Barcelona? Barcelona is pretty fucking sick.”

John steps by you and taps your shades, grinning slyly. “Actually, I have an idea—”

But before he can tell you what it is exactly, he places his hands on the console of the TARDIS and the whole thing jerks perpendicular to the course you had it on, throwing you both into the railing. It doesn’t take long before it shudders to an abrupt halt, but you’re more than a little shaken. John holds your startled gaze for a second, then runs for the door again. You’ve really got to tell him to stop doing that because there aren’t always going to be happy aliens out there to see him, or, say, _atmospheres_ , but before you can yell anything to that effect the door is open and he’s laughing.

“How did you know?” he calls over his shoulder as he rushes out into weak sunlight. You walk over and find that you’re apparently on Earth again, though the air tastes younger, probably around 2003. John’s disappeared off onto what looks like a film set, but it’s only a moment before he’s running back, laughing as dorkily as ever with something clutched tight in his hand. He pushes past you yelling “Go! Go! Go!” just as three production assistants round a corner shouting, and you slam the door shut, but not before getting a glance at a red and white Ford Grand Torino. A pounding comes at the door as you lock it, and you rush to the TARDIS controls more than a little aggravated.

“Haven’t been onboard for more than three minutes, and you’re already wreaking havoc and changing timelines,” you yell over the sound of the engine, watching John catch his breath, bent over with his hands on his knees.

“What, didn’t you ever read the story on Wikipedia about the crazy fan who stole a pair of Ben Stiller’s prop sunglasses during the filming of _Starksy & Hutch_?” he says, grin mischievous as he holds up his spoils, which are in fact a pair of gold-rimmed aviators. “I was just thinking it was time to change up your look a little. The pointy shades make you look like a tool.”

You try to make your face do something that isn’t stupid, and fail spectacularly. “What are you talking about?”

“The article said that while several pairs were used during filming, one pair was stolen by a man who broke onto the set through unknown means, and escaped the same way, which no one was able to explain,” he recites, eyes still sparkling. “I’d always wondered what that was about, and it only clicked when the idea occurred to me in passing. Time travel is pretty much the coolest!”

“You little shit,” you say as you take the glasses, making sure to give him a solid punch on the shoulder before you turn your back to exchange pairs. “I can’t believe you remembered such a tiny fucking detail.”

“You’re talking to the pranking master here,” John says, practically glowing."A good set-up is always on my mind."

“Not even a day in and already managing stable time loops. You’re going to put me out of a job. Who needs a Time Lord when you’ve got a human and Wikipedia? Shit, man, I have to step aside,” you grumble, trying to put everything on the console back to where you had it when a thought suddenly strikes you.

“That was the set of _Starsky & Hutch_ and you didn’t let me covetously caress the face of Snoop Dogg?” you ask, glaring over at him through your new shades. John grabs hold of the railing behind him with a wide smile, one finger pressed to his lips.

“Shhh, only Barcelona now,” he says, and the TARDIS jumps into motion.

***

\-- ghostyTrickster [GT] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] at ??:?? –-

  
GT: hey jade!  
GT: i just wanted to let you know that i’m going travelling for a while too! i shouldn’t be gone for long, but just in case i wanted you to know that i’m fine. i’m sure i’ll have all sorts of stories to tell you when i get back, most of which you probably won’t believe! but that’s okay because i don’t really buy your story about going to live with the natives of a country where it looks like there are two moons at night. we’ll finally be even!  
GT: talk to you later! 

\-- ghostyTrickster [GT] ceased pestering gardenGnostic [GG] at ??:?? \--

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering ghostyTrickster [GT] at 22:47 –-

GG: hehehe!  
GG: see you soon, john!!!! <3

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering ghostyTrickster [GT] at 22:48 \--


End file.
